


Love Is..

by likehandlingroses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: Percy's relationships with his siblings after the war all look a bit different, but each of them is imbued with love.





	Love Is..

Bill knows his parents have forgiven Percy, and he understands. You forgive your children. But Percy isn’t his child, and Bill is still angry. To leave, that was one thing. But how could he have taken so long to come back? After Dad was attacked, after _he_ was attacked. Mum’s tears and letters…how could they have failed to be enough?

And Bill tells him so, one morning. He doesn’t mean to—everyone else seems to think Percy had paid for his absence and then some, and perhaps they are right. Still, the words come. Quietly, but firmly, and they do not stop until Bill feels some of the ugly weight on his heart has lifted.

“—I can’t understand it, I really can’t. I know you’re sorry; I’m glad you’re sorry. But I don’t know what to do with that, Perce,” he finishes.

The entire time, Percy listens, his eyes wide but looking straight at him. He’s so young, Bill thinks. So young.

“You’re right, of course,” he murmurs, once it’s clear Bill has finished. Bill, whose anger has softened, if not entirely dissipated, tries say that of course he’s happy he’s back, it’s loose ends, that’s all, he’s still welcome, always.

Percy just nods, still pale, and for the first time in his life, Bill doesn’t see the faintest trace of wanting the last word on his face.

After he leaves, Fleur says, “You say ‘e is proud. Well, so am I. And I could not ‘ave done ‘zat.”

* * *

Charlie fears his family’s new celebrity status—he had his taste of fame at school, and though he loved Quidditch, he hated the games you had to play off the field, how everyone wanted a peek at your life just because you could catch a ball.

It’s not so bad when he’s in Romania, but he has to come home sometimes—more and more, what with weddings and Ginny’s matches and his mother’s letters saying she misses him—it’s not as easy as it used to be, staying away.

He doesn’t know who tipped Rita off, and he doesn’t much care; whoever they were, however much money they took—they stopped at naming names.

_The Weasleys are Quidditch fanatics, though I’m told one of the brothers’ affection for the game (and its male players) is a bit more hands-on…no names, unfortunately, though a quick run down the line makes the answer clear enough._

No one says anything—Bill mutters that everyone knows Rita is a liar, and Charlie knows even less what to do come Ginny’s match the next day.

But when Rita comes to rush him, Percy shoves his way between them.

“I don’t know who told you about Oliver Wood—plays for Puddlemere United, you know, excellent fellow—we got quite out of hand on a trip to Hogsmeade…don’t know _who_ let us go on so, I haven’t had a sip of Firewhiskey since…”

And as Rita’s pen begins to scribble, Percy looks back at him and grins.

* * *

 

George knows what Fred would have done, how he would have tried his best to make Percy feel at ease again. He’d always been fond of Percy, always told George that once Percy had finished with trying to make every prat in the world like him, he’d be alright. George believed him, though he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t know how it had happened, for they’d grown up together, but Fred remembered Percy differently than George did.

“Do you remember when he used to read Babbitty Rabbitty to anyone who would listen, and he’d do all the voices up to make us laugh?”

George didn’t—though he’d never much liked being read to. The words slipped away if he couldn’t see them, and he’d always been wretched at sitting still. However, Fred insisted that it had happened, that Percy had once laughed so hard with them that Mum had come up to scold them for waking up poor Ginny. George for the life of him couldn’t remember such a thing ever happening.

He knows what Fred would do, but he isn’t Fred.

Still, he tries. Messily, mechanically, he forces himself to sit with Percy, to invite him over. To talk with him and listen and _try_. And in time, he stops worrying about what Fred would have done.

Though one night, when he and Angelina come back early from a night out, he hears little Fred laughing at his uncle’s booming imitation of the king. And George almost—almost—remembers.

* * *

Ron should be grateful, he knows that. An Auror at eighteen, and without a N.E.W.T to his name…still, it’d have been nice to have a chance to prove himself.

“But you’ve _done_ that,” Hermione insists. “All of you. That’s why Kingsley is taking you on.”

But it doesn’t feel like enough, when standing next to Harry, when facing people who don’t quite know _what_ Ron Weasley did. Even Neville managed to chop off a snake’s head in front of everyone…

As September looms, he wonders if it’s too late to go back to Hogwarts with Hermione. It won’t be much use, he knows that. But at least then, he’ll have something to wave at people. Proof that he’s good enough to be there.

“Ask Kingsley what he thinks,” Hermione says.

So he goes to Kingsley’s office, finding the door slightly ajar, Percy’s familiar blustering voice coming through it.

“—and he has the funniest ideas about not being a real Auror because he hasn’t passed an examination. I really think, if you talked to him—”

“—I will, if it’s important to you,” Kingsley says. “But it might help if you talked him as well.”

“Oh, he won’t listen to me. What do I know about any of it? But the fact is he’s got more talent and more experience than anyone who’s taken that exam, and someone he trusts needs to tell him so, or he’ll leave.”

Ron backs away from the door, his step much lighter.

* * *

 

Ginny hates how quiet the house has gotten, even with people in and out at all hours. Even Percy, who has been back to work for three weeks, has said nothing about his work with Kingsley. For once, he has interesting stories to tell, and still…nothing. As though the whole house has died.

All Ginny wants is for things to go on as usual, and when she gets her Hogwarts letter, with its list of books, she races up to Percy’s room without stopping to think.

“I don’t want to go back,” she blurts out. “Not really.”

She wants to hear Percy tell her she really ought to go back, that there’s so much to be learned in the last year…but he nods.

“What would you do?” he asks delicately.

“Quidditch, if I could manage it.” Ginny can already feel herself faltering. “I mean, I suppose I might not be good enough to play league—”

“—I’ll talk to Gwenog. See if she can watch you sometime.”

“ _Gwenog_ _Jones_?”

“I’ve met her a few times—she’s quite nice, though she will chat your ear off. Mind you, I can’t talk…”

“You don’t have to…I’m sure she gets people asking all the time, for her to watch their kid sisters. I don’t want—”

For the first time since his return, Percy lifts himself up to his full height.

“—I’m sure that Gwenog knows _I_ wouldn’t waste her time. The very thought…”

Ginny grins widely. Finally, something feels alive again.


End file.
